The End and The Beginning
by Celtic druidess
Summary: Begins the night of Aragorn's death, told from the POV of his daughter Elwen. A new darkness is to fall upon the House of Telcontar. Please R&R.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Lord of the Rings, except some of the details of this story.**

The end had come.

Aragorn Elessar Telcontar, High King of Gondor, was passing into the next world. Having lived thrice as long as most men, the great King would now depart from this world and throne over to his only son, Eldarion, who was already a man grown nearly fifty years in age. But that is reckoned young yet in the line of Elendil.

And I, Princess Elwen, was the eldest child of Aragorn and his elven wife Arwen. Twenty years elder than Eldarion was I, but I did not look it. For it seemed that I would age far more slowly than even my father who lived nearly three hundred years.

It was late autumn when my father would take his leave of this world. A shadow seemed to have overtaken the city of Minas Tirith. All waited for the beloved King of Gondor to make his journey to the Halls of Mandos. All waited with gloom and darkness laying upon their hearts, but none more so than we, the royal family, who loved Aragorn the most.

My mother, the queen Arwen, seemed as though a light inside of her was being quenched. She would not leave her husband's side in his last living hours. The great love my parents had was known throughout all the land. All knew the tale of how the beautiful elf maiden, Arwen, gave up her immortality for the love of a mortal man with the full knowledge that he would age and die and she would linger on in darkness and despair. Her eternal youth would seem a curse as she watched her beloved fade.

The hour was growing late, and yet my father lingered. Eldarion sat in a chair outside the King's bedchamber, his head in his hands. His wife, Iriel, stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders as though to comfort him. Our younger sister, Celebrindel, sat on a couch with her husband, Elfwine, who had his arm around her as though to protect her from what was to come. My siblings had sent both of their broods of children to their rooms shortly after they had bade farewell to their grandfather. Anarion, Eldarion's eldest, wanted to stay for he was nearly a man grown, but he knew not to cross his father this night. Gimli, a dwarf lord and one of my father's closest friends, was also present, gnawing on his pipe as if to distract himself.

I stood aloof, my arms wrapped about myself. It is said that I inherited my mother's keen elven senses. That night, I did sense something was coming, and not just my father's death. Something more, but I knew not what. I felt the need to breathe some night air. So I took my leave of the outer chamber, waving off the hovering servants in the corridors, telling them that the King lived still. I made my way outside passed the White Tree of Minas Tirith which was leafless and dejected on that cool night. I espied a figure standing on the stone precipice that overlooked much of the Pelennor fields. Although the hood of his cloak was up, I knew him. I sensed him.

Legolas.

The elf prince was a long time companion of my father. They had fought side by side throughout all the War of the Ring. Ever since Legolas had loyally dwelt at my father's side. I had known him since I was a small child. He had been my dear friend. He could not give me more than that. Although once… once he had taken me into his arms as a man does a woman, but it was not to be. We could only ever be friends, but I would have no other if not him, and I never did.

I walked over to where he stood. He gazed out into the darkness, muttering elvish chants under his breath.

He sensed me coming.

"The stars are veiled. The air is heavy and still." He did not yet turn. "A timeless malice… the Doom of the Edain."

I nodded and shivered. I felt it too. "Death is coming. He comes to take a great Man to Mandos."

He finally looked at me. There was sorrow on his face. "One of the greatest Men ever to walk upon this earth." He turned his gaze back to the spread of land before us.

There was silence then I ventured. "Will you now leave?" He knew what I meant. I knew he longed for the sea, although I never understood why. I do not think anyone who is not of the Eldar could understand that longing. That longing that consumes the fair Firstborn. That longing that causes them to grow weary of this world. That longing that Legolas put before his feelings for me.

He did not answer for a time and when he did he would not look at me. "Elwen, you know the answer to that. I've stayed out of loyalty and love for my friend, your father. Do not…" He stopped short as though his breath was taken from him.

It was then that I felt a stab of pain in my chest. We had both felt it. We both knew.

"By the Valar," I muttered, tears filling my eyes.

Legolas turned. "Death is here."

My father, King Aragorn of Gondor, was dead.

It was as though a madness had overtaken both of us, for we fled back into the palace to the doors of the King's chamber. It was then I heard a wailing of grief nearly too terrible to imagine. It came from inside the royal bedchamber it was my mother, Arwen.

My siblings found comfort in the arms of their spouses, and Gimli, having cast his pipe aside, hid his face in his hand as he wept.

I stood there, feeling numb all over. Tears flowed down my cheeks unchecked. My father was dead. I stared at the doorway, m**y** mother's cries echoing in my ears. My father, Aragorn, was dead.

It was then that I felt Legolas take me into an embrace. I let my head fall on his shoulder, my tears wetting his tunic. He heard him murmuring elvish prayers for the dead and I found myself mouthing them through my tears as well.

King Aragorn was dead. Long live King Eldarion, my brother.

**To be continued…**

**As always please review.**


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